


Draecember 2017 Day Twenty Three: Singing/Playing an Instrument

by Zillidan



Series: Draecember 2017 [23]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Bar Fight, Gadgetzan - Freeform, New Years, draecember2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 18:55:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13129947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zillidan/pseuds/Zillidan
Summary: Looking to ring in the New Years, Jen heads off to a bar to spend the night but finds herself in the middle of a confrontation she wasn't expecting.





	Draecember 2017 Day Twenty Three: Singing/Playing an Instrument

New Years time was always a highly celebrated event in the world of Azeroth. After so many battles, wars, and loss, being able to celebrate the simple fact of being alive for one more year and blessing the next year was an event that was to be treasured. This was something Jen learned very early on during her move to Azeroth and had grown accustomed to enjoying and taking part in. For her, another year was another year and time was relatively meaningless. If she was to celebrate every single year of her life, well, that would have easily been tens of thousands of occasions. However, for the more mortal races of the world, time was something to be treasured and such a celebration it always was. This year she found herself down in the harsh desert of Tanaris in the slimy Goblin town of Gadgetzan. Though she never found herself enjoying the gangster and mob scene of the town, it was putting together a New Years celebration that was allegedly supposed to “blow the whole town up.” Now normally, this kind of promise from a Goblin would have any sane person heading in the other direction, but the crowds had descended upon the seedy town for a night most of them would never forget. 

Stepping onto the street for the first time, Jen could barely even move. People from all over the known world were here celebrating all week leading up to tonight. It was still the late evening and all she hoped for was a fun night on the town, making it into some bar for a drink, and maybe even meeting someone. In turn, she had dressed quite cute for the night, if she allowed herself to brag for the moment. She left the armor and weapons at home in favor of a black cocktail dress that would normally qualify as a regular dress for most women, but at her size fit perfect. She wasn’t one for makeup, but anyone getting close to her face would tell she did at least something, at least to hide the fel marks from her face. Pushing through the crowds, she narrowly avoided person after person, kids running around with fireworks, Goblins selling anything they could, and the generally chaotic nature of crowds going every which way through the small streets. She generally knew which way she was going, with some faulty directions mumbled to her by the Goblin that owned the inn. There was a bar not too far from the inn, just a few blocks away, that was an “authentic Dwarven pub” ran by Goblins of course. While the setting did not intrigue her much, the proximity, as well as the Dwarven theme, promised at least her favorite brand of Scotch to sip on.

Eventually, she arrived, entering the near-capacity room and finding nothing but a corner to lean against. Fortunately for her, the servers were at least making rounds to these people as well and a few moments later she was couple coins lighter and halfway deep in a bottle of her favorite stuff. She scanned the room, hearty laughter, banter, and a general positive energy flowing through the room bringing a smile to her face as she sipped away. While her plan of maybe meeting someone for the night seemed to be dwindling, due to the more rough clientele, she had least took solace in the fact that it was a nice place to spend her evening in, or so she thought. No sooner did she think this to herself did the general vibe begin to shift. Murmurs came about the room as a confrontation seemed to be brewing in one corner. Rival gangs seemed to find each other at the wrong time of year and a dispute began to break out. Forceful tones turned to shouting as weapons were drawn and the room seemed to shift. What Jen had failed to realize was essentially everyone in the room was either on one side or the other and it seemed as if the locals had known that and cleared out. The only other person unaware of what was going on was the hired Dwarven Bard, who casually slowed his paling and singing to a halt, left his Lute, and walked out the side door like he had done this a thousand times. Suddenly, a rifle went off.

Like any good bar fight, it was fairly chaotic. Weapons came out immediately and duels were happening all over. Those without weapons quickly resorted to fists or objects found around the room. Bottle were quickly smashed over hands before becoming makeshift shanks for people to gut their enemies with. Jen quickly went to move to the exit but found a large brawl blocking her path. Turning just in time, she saw the same Lute being swung her way by a drunken Human in a very poor manner. She easily watched his swing miss and crash to the floor and knock himself out. She quickly grabbed it and smiled. This was what she lived for, this is what she was missing. Armed with only the carefully crafted wooden instruments and thing cloth to protect her, she made her way to the side entrance. She quickly dodged a bottle thrown her way, wildly swinging at the man and clocking him in the side of the head, sending him down to the floor. A sharp swipe across her back followed by a push sent her careening to the floor. Flipping over she saw a Night Elf with a bloody knife leap down on her, eager to plunge it down her throat for some odd reason. Holding the Lute between her neck and the frantically stabbing blade she reached out and punched at her jaw, knocking her straight off. Quickly scrambling to her feet she swung down and knocked her clean out for good, though she was disheartened by the loss of her tattered dress. She continued onwards, the instrument’s masterfully crafted frame becoming the blunt tool she needed to escape this madness. She got cut a lot, a bottle almost hit her head but instead bounced off her shoulder, and she thinks she even got shot? In the end, she finally reached the door and made it out into the back alley. Covered in sweat and blood in her tattered dress, she leaned against the building and tried to calm down and take a breather.

“Excuse me lass, is that my…?”

She looked over at the Dwarf sheepishly clasping his hands together, eyes looking down at the object in her hand. She smirked, looking it over.

“Yes, I think it does belong to you.”

The craftsmanship did hold up. Some strings were broken, it was shipped in a number of spots, and covered with blood, but in the end, was completely usable. She casually handed it to him and limped back out on the street. Even at her height, nobody seemed to care about the messy, sweaty, blood demon in tattered clothes wandering the street. In just under an hour, the countdown to the New Year was upon them and Jen did have something to be thankful about. The joy that this planet gave her, and the joy that would continue on into this upcoming year.


End file.
